


I Won't Even Wish for Snow

by bourgeois, rafaelbaseball



Series: Sonny Side Up 'verse [3]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Boyfriends Being Cute, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Guilty Sonny, Hurt Rafael, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Skating, M/M, Multimedia, Rafael loves Star Wars, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-02-22 00:12:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13155036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bourgeois/pseuds/bourgeois, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rafaelbaseball/pseuds/rafaelbaseball
Summary: Rafael’s brow creases as he stares down at his skates with intensifying concentration. “Fine, this is the worst idea you’ve had since we started dating.”“You know what, though,” Sonny says, pausing to steal a kiss on Rafael’s cheek, “dating you has been my actual best idea since we started dating. That, and the bourbon-spiked brownie cake.”-Or: The one where Rafael gets hurt ice skating and Sonny takes care of him. Then gives him a Christmas gift two days before Christmas because he has no self-control.





	1. Come On, It's Lovely Weather

If this were a romantic comedy, they would be surrounded by inexplicably bright and smiling faces, not a crying child within earshot, and there’d be a jolly Christmas song like “Sleigh Ride” playing overhead as they easily slipped their way through an otherwise impossible crowd.  
  
As it stands, Rafael thinks with a grimace, this is _not_ a romantic comedy and they are _not_ easily slipping their way through the impossible crowd. Instead, sniffling strangers are invading his very precious personal space, jabbing him in the side with their elbows as they try to push through to the same place the solid majority of them seem to be headed: the Rink at Rockefeller Center.

With a grunt that speaks more to his irritation than any actual pain from yet another elbow jaw, Rafael tugs urgently at Sonny’s hand, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You couldn’t have picked somewhere a little less, I don’t know, public?”

It’s not as if it could possibly come as a surprise to anyone, resident or not, that Rockefeller Center is a prime winter-in-New York tourist destination where they’ll have to wait for ages just to get on the ice and even longer if anyone recognizes Sonny on the way to the rink. They could’ve gone to Bryant Park, or Wollman Rink, or Chelsea, or hell, even Brookfield Place, but no. No, Sonny had chosen Rockefeller. Between the massive Christmas tree and the garish, golden decorations, the place is one big photo op and on top of that, it always feels so damn... kitschy. It probably doesn’t help that they’re here the weekend before Christmas but coordinating their daytime schedules isn’t a particularly easy thing so they’d been left with hardly any choice.

“What, you don’t want to be seen with me?” Sonny teases, prompting an eye roll.

“You know, sometimes I’m almost sure you don’t realize you’re a famous person.”

Sonny raises a brow at him, smirking. “I’m not that famous.”

“You have millions of subscribers and social media followers,” Rafael counters, sidestepping a screaming small child who’s being chased by, presumably, his mother, who’s shouting warnings in Spanish.

“Okay, but—“   
  
“You’re also a _New York Times_ bestseller.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t—“

“People recognize _me_ on the street because we’re dating. Someone even stopped me for a picture, did you know about that?”

Rafael isn’t surprised by Sonny’s burst of laughter. “What! When?”

“The other night.”

“The other night when?”

“The night I had to work extra late so we didn’t see each other.”

“Oh, that night. I didn’t like that night, blocked it out of my memory. Someone stopped you for a picture?”

Rafael nods, pausing to pointedly sigh at the two trendily dressed European men who’ve stopped short in front of them to take a photo just outside of Rockefeller Center, effectively blocking the entrance and subsequently, their temporary respite from the cold. Returning his attention to Sonny, he continues, “Then they [posted it on Twitter](https://officialsonnysideup.tumblr.com/post/168955785142/part-one-of-a-very-ssu-christmas-is-here-part-two) and put my name in it. Tagged me in it? Anyway, my phone was buzzing all day, I didn’t know how to make it stop so I just deleted the whole thing.”

“Wait! “ Sonny snaps his fingers. “I did see that picture! Admittedly kind of weird, I’ll give you that. It was nice of you to stop.”

“It was embarrassing,” Rafael says, wrinkling his nose. “I tried to tell her no but she looked so upset that I gave in, it was awkward.”

Sonny holds an arm out, or as far as he can without smacking the person beside him. “Welcome to my life, babe.”

“See? You’re famous. Case closed.”

Laughing, Sonny gestures at the path to the door that’s now clear. “This is why you’re the lawyer. Come on, we’ll hop in the VIP line, avoid at least one of the bigger crowds.”

“I think that’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Twenty minutes later, in skates and inching his way onto the ice, Rafael is ready to take it all back.

“Forget what I said, this is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

Sonny does a spin on his skates, then another, and Rafael scowls. Show off.

“Really? The worst?” Sonny grins, sliding backward on the ice until he’s beside Rafael, reaching to wrap one arm around his boyfriend’s waist to support him. “I don’t know, Raf, you weren’t there for the great bomb the hill on a skateboard incident of 1992, that was a pretty bad idea.”

Rafael’s brow creases as he stares down at his skates with intensifying concentration. “Fine, this is the worst idea you’ve had since we started dating.”

“You know what, though,” Sonny says, pausing to steal a kiss on Rafael’s cheek, “dating you has been my actual best idea since we started dating. That, and the bourbon-spiked brownie cake.”

“You’re funny,” Rafael deadpans, only half-heartedly swatting at Sonny’s chest because it’s the closest thing he can reach without releasing his death grip on Sonny’s arm, though he can’t hide the twitch of a pleased smile. Shivering, he huffs to cover up his amusement, the puff of cold air that leaves his lips and the stiffness he already feels growing in his shoulders from carrying himself so tensely serving to remind him exactly why he doesn’t want to be doing this. “I can’t believe you made me pay $75 to skate with tourists in twenty-something degree weather.”

“First of all, I’m paying for it because I made you pay for us to go watch _The Mountain Between Us_ —“

“It had Idris Elba in it, how could it have gone so wrong?”

“—and don’t worry, I’m right here to keep you nice and warm. Besides, you’ve never skated here before, I can’t believe that.”

Rafael scoffs. “You can’t believe that a poor Cuban kid from the Bronx has never skated at Rockefeller Center?”

"Oh, please, like you haven’t gone skiing abroad. It’s not so outrageous that you might’ve come here, too.”

“Well, I don’t skate. Clearly. Anyway, don’t forget your promise.”

“I know, I know. I won’t let you go, cross my heart.”

“I’m serious, Sonny, you can’t let go.” As if to prove his own point, Rafael’s knee buckles and he slips, scrambling to keep his hold on Sonny’s arm while Sonny hoists him back upright. One arm held out for balance he wouldn’t find on his own anyway, Rafael expels a long sigh of relief. It’s not right, he thinks, he shouldn’t be sweating when it’s twenty-eight degrees.

“I got you, Raf,” Sonny tells him, tilting his head to meet Rafael’s eyes. “I’m right here.”

“Yeah, okay,” Rafael mutters, now all the more cautious, merely inching forward on the ice. His cheeks, already pink from the sting of the code, burn red now from embarrassment and the distinct, self-inflicted sense of being a burden, even though Sonny doesn’t look at all bothered by the fact that he’s being forced to move at a seventy-five dollar snail’s pace.

He tries to tune his own thoughts out, shifting his focus instead on what’s around them. It helps to ease his mild distress when he sees other couples in nearly the exact position they are, one such couple right in front of them. Nobody seems to be paying either of them any mind, which is always a nice difference from when they’re out at a restaurant and get hounded by fans seeking photos on the way home, or even mid-meal. It’d been terribly off-putting at first, Rafael has to admit, especially considering most fans seem to be blind to his presence. He’s there, but he’s not there, and on more than one occasion, fans haven’t even acknowledged him except to hand them their cameras and ask him to take a photo.

Things had changed a bit once they’d gone public with their relationship, once Sonny had started posting regularly about him and sharing photos and snippets of their lives. He never does it without Rafael’s permission, of course, and the reactions have generally been positive, save for the rare gems who seem to truly believe Rafael has stolen their man, but it’s still nice to find quiet in a public place like this when they can.

Of course, he should’ve known he’d spoken too soon.

It’s only because he happens to look over his shoulder that Rafael sees them: two young girls, both he’d guess about eighteen, gripping each other’s hands as they follow closely on their skates. One of them, a blonde with perfect curls cascading over her shoulders under a white beanie with a cutesy pom pom on it, carries her iPhone at the ready, her eyes so wide Rafael thinks she must be about ready to burst a vessel in them.

“Think we’re about to have company,” he mutters in Sonny’s ear, vaguely nodding toward the girls when his boyfriend gives him a questioning look.

“Sorry, Sonny?” the blonde calls out, clearly realizing she’s been spotted. “It’s you, right? I’m such a big fan!”

“She really is,” her friend says, a shorter redhead who doesn’t seem nearly as interested in anything but supporting her counterpart. “She watches your show every week. We came from Indiana so she could meet you and get your book signed.”

Rafael feels Sonny’s chest heave against him, but he isn’t surprised when Sonny’s cautious smile becomes a full-blown grin. Sonny slows to a stop on the ice, guiding Rafael toward the edge of the rink so they can face the girls.

“Hey, no kidding, that’s really nice. Hold on, you were at the signing on... _Thursday_ , right? Savannah? You gave me that customized Funko of me, holding the little eggs in the pan and everything, that was so cool!”

Sonny Carisi, ever the most amiable person to live, Rafael thinks, even when it’s at the most inconvenient of times.

And actually, Rafael had seen that customized toy and even he has to admit, it was awfully cute.

Savannah’s eyes somehow, somehow, grow even wider, Rafael isn’t even sure how that’s possible, but she’s managed it. “Oh, my god, you remember that? _You remember my name_?”

It’s practically a shriek, and Rafael has to actively stop himself from cringing. He’d done that once, closer to when he and Sonny had first started dating, and a fan had taken offense online. It hadn’t been that serious, Sonny had promised, just an overreaction to something taken out of context, but Rafael had learned from it. He feels like he learns a little more about being in a relationship with Sonny and the Sonny Siders nearly every day.

“Is there any way I could get a picture with you? I wanted to ask at the signing but there were so many people there, I didn’t get a chance.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.” Sonny glances at Rafael, expression mildly apologetic but also very obviously hoping for understanding as he starts to detach himself from Rafael’s grip. “Two seconds, Raf, I swear. Just stay right here and you’ll be fine, I’ll be right back.”

Rafael stares blankly before the panic flares in his chest. “What? No, no, no, no, no! Sonny, you—“

It’s useless. In a few seconds flat, Sonny lets go of him and turns to lean in toward Savannah as her friend fumbles with the camera.

It only takes a few seconds more for Rafael to drift away from the side of the rink, nearly bent over at the waist, trying to cross his knees like he’s skiing and finding that’s it really not as effective as he’d hoped it’d be. His eyes are on the ice when he hears a warning shout of “ _hey, watch it_!” and then there’s a massive jolt to his back that knocks the wind out of him before he’s falling forward and everything goes dark.

Sonny barely has time to register the yelp coming from Rafael’s direction before a sickening _crack_ of something hitting the ice hard sends a chill up his spine. His heart stops, he’s sure of it, and for too long a moment, he can’t bring himself to stop smiling or to look away from what’s morphed into horrified expressions on the girls’ faces.

When he does finally turn to find what he knows is waiting for him, the rest of the world comes rushing back all at once. The first thing he sees is a smear of red on the ice, then Rafael face down, legs askew and one ankle twisted in a way that isn’t anything close to natural.

“Shit,” he murmurs under his breath, scrambling toward his boyfriend, sliding to his knees once he’s cleared a path through the growing, concerned crowd. There are people holding up their cameras, filming and snapping photos, some of them pointing at Sonny as the recognition sets in, and he has to force himself not to explode at each and every one of them.

Do something useful, he wants to scream, do _anything_.

“Hey, man,” a much burlier, bearded man in a Patriots sweatshirt says, “I tried to warn him, he came out of nowhere--”

Sonny holds a hand up, shaking his head. “It’s— It’s okay. It was an accident.” He doesn’t care who’d done it or whose fault it’d been, he doesn’t care about apologies offered or excuses made, all Sonny cares about right now is making sure Rafael gets whatever he needs to be okay. Trembling hands hovering over Rafael’s body, Sonny does his best to stay calm, to keep his voice steady, still very aware of how many people are watching. “Raf? Hey, Raf, you with me?” 

The low, pained groan that sounds from deep within Rafael’s throat isn’t exactly comforting, but it’s a good enough sign for Sonny because at least it means Rafael is conscious. Gently, as gently as he can, he helps Rafael shift onto his back, hissing with sympathy when he catches sight of the bloody nose and cut at Rafael’s temple.

“What happened?” Rafael asks, slowly blinking his eyes open, grasping for Sonny’s hand.

Sonny latches onto it, squeezing tightly as he presses his other hand against Rafael’s cheek, brushing his thumb over skin red and wet from the ice. “You fell. You fell, you hit your head.” He glanced over his shoulder at the dumbstruck bystanders, then seeks out Savannah and her friend instead. “Hey, girls, do me a favor? Find someone who’s working the rink, ask them to call an ambulance, would you?”

Savannah nods and immediately moves to do what she’s been told, her friend quickly following suit. If there’s one thing that can be said about being considered a celebrity, Sonny thinks, even in some small way, it’s that people don’t often think twice to do something they’re asked. He doesn’t often take advantage of that but in this particular case, he’s grateful for the luxury.

“Don’t want an ambulance,” Rafael says. No, slurs. He tries to get up then cries out, a shout of pain that cuts Sonny to his core, and reaches toward his twisted ankle with slow, frightened realization. “Sonny...”

“I know, baby,” Sonny murmurs, carefully urging Rafael to lay back against the ice. He’s been avoiding looking at the ankle himself, it’s too gruesome, which is selfish but he feels responsible for it because he’d let go and damn it, he’d promised, he’d promised not to let go. “We’re going to get you to the hospital, okay? Patch you up good as new.”

“It hurts,” Rafael says. His eyes are watery, making the green stand out that much more, and Sonny can tell he’s holding back tears.

“I know,” Sonny says again, smiling softly, hopefully comfortingly, as he strokes Rafael’s cheek with the back of his palm. “I know, and I’m so sorry, Raf, I’m so sorry.”

Rafael squeezes his eyes tight, clearly trying and failing to overcome the pain because another groan escapes him. “You lied to me,” he says, practically breathless, and it doesn’t sound like an accusation but it still sends a wave of guilt through Sonny.

“Rafael—”

“You _do_ know you’re famous,” Rafael interrupts, blinking an eye back open. Sonny can only stare in uncertain silence while a small, teasing smile plays at the corner of Rafael’s lips.

Sonny knows it’s only for him, that smile is meant to be a comfort to Sonny when Rafael’s the one who needs to the comforting, and Sonny thinks his heart might have stopped again, if only for a split second. It’s one of those moments, he thinks. It’s one of those moments when everything aligns and he’s struck with the undeniable realization that he’s in love with this man, that there could be no one else in his lifetime he could possibly love more because to even consider that as a possibility is laughable.

“You’re right, I know I’m famous,” Sonny echoes with a laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Rafael’s forehead. He can hear the sound of camera phone shutters going off, but he doesn’t give a damn. All of Rockefeller Center may be watching right now, but this moment belongs to them, to Sonny and Rafael. “I’m super famous, and you know what that means, right? I’m going to make sure you get the best care possible. I will yell at people at the hospital if I have to, I swear.”

“You would never do that,” Rafael says, his small smile flickering at his attempt to shake his head. He doesn’t try again. “But I appreciate the offer. Do one thing for me, though?”

“Anything, Raf, tell me. Anything.”

Rafael covers the hand Sonny has on his cheek with his own. “Say nice things at my funeral when I’m gone?” Sonny gapes at him, struggling to find words, _a_ word, _any_ word, but Rafael just hums, the closest thing to a laugh he can manage as he traces over Sonny’s knuckles. “It’s a joke. Just don’t let go this time. Please?”

Once he’s recovered from what he’ll be sure to later remind Rafael had been the actual worst joke known to the history of humankind, Sonny smiles affectionately down at him.

“I won’t.” Sonny turns his palm beneath Rafael’s, lacing their fingers. “I promise you, Raf, I will never let go again.”

 


	2. Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of bickering over Star Wars and tiramisu never hurt anyone, especially when it ends with presents.

Life after an ankle twist and mild concussion is as frustrating as Rafael had expected it to be, with one exception: it’s admittedly been rather nice to be waited on hand and foot by his own boyfriend, constantly surrounded by the various smells of whatever recipes Sonny is trying out for the show. This evening, there’s a combination of espresso, rum, and cocoa wafting from the kitchen, and Rafael’s mouth is already watering at the thought of dessert soon being served, never mind the fact that they’ve just inhaled an enormous meal of homemade five-cheese Italian sausage lasagna. Sonny has a habit of making enough food to feed a family of four and in spite of both their promises to each other that they _won’t_ eat their weight in dinner this time, they always somehow manage to clear all the plates.

It’s been a week of this so far. It’d been an easy enough decision, to let Sonny convince him it’d be best to recover here, where Sonny is more easily accessible, rather than his own place, where Rafael would most definitely make attempts to do things he shouldn’t be doing and more than likely without the aid of his crutches. The first night back from the hospital, Sonny had dutifully set alarms for himself to wake Rafael every two hours on the dot, even though the doctor hadn’t seemed particularly concerned about whatever it is he hadn’t seen on Rafael’s head scan. As the days have passed, Sonny’s mother-henning has waned, but at the same time, he’s always been attentive so it’s almost as if nothing has really changed much at all.

His actual mother calls at least twice a day, once to assure him the cats are doing just fine without him at the apartment and a second time to assure herself Sonny is doing a proper job of taking care of her son.

“You know you can come stay with me, _mijo_.” She says it every time and every time, without fail, she makes a fuss when Rafael declines.

Tonight, at least, she limits it to an irritated huff followed by a quick “ _te quiero_ ” before she rushes off the phone. Rafael’s almost offended until he realizes it’s Wednesday, which means there’s a new episode of whatever dating show she’s watching now, and he supposes he should be grateful for the limited conversation because come tomorrow, he’ll have to suffer through an unbearably long recap.

“Off the phone now,” Rafael calls, shifting on the couch with just the slightest wince when he’s a little too careless with how he moves his ankle.

Sonny wanders out from the kitchen then with a mixing bowl tucked between his elbow and waist, his other hand mixing at the contents inside of it. He’s wearing a _Sonny Side Up_ apron with his own smiling face printed within the yolk of an egg, which is arguably the worst piece of merchandise the show has ever put up for sale, but Rafael finds it somehow endearing that Sonny actually uses the damn thing. “Done already?”

“It’s _Temptation Isle_ night.”

“Say no more. Your sorry excuse for a Christmas movie is in the DVD player already, by the way, if you want to get it started. I promise I’m almost done in here, just have to throw the second cake in the oven.”

“Okay, first of all? I can’t wait for the cake, it already smells delicious. Secondly, you chose _Die Hard_ as your Christmas movie so you have no room to talk.”

“I don’t see the problem.”

Rafael glowers at Sonny, whose serene smile makes this petty argument they’ve already had doubly infuriating. “If _Die Hard_ is a Christmas movie, so is _Empire_ .” 

“Look, Raf, you’re injured, you know? So I don’t really want to stress you out or anything, but I just don’t see what possible way _Empire Strikes Back_ is a Christmas movie. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“There’s snow,” Rafael points out, albeit weakly, “and the equivalent of an abominable snowman.”

“I think the pain pills are getting to you, babe, sorry to say.”

“The only thing the pain pills have been getting me is an upset stomach. If I’m going to take something to feel numb, I’d much rather it be scotch.”

Sonny arches a brow at that, pursing his lips before nodding down at his bowl. “Well, this is tiramisu eggnog trifle for us to test out before I film the Christmas special so you’ll get a tiny bit of booze fix for your holiday season.”

“This is your fault, you know,” Rafael says, fiddling with the remote until the living room is filled with the blast of the opening _Star Wars_ theme. He can’t help it, he smiles, sitting up a little straighter as he watches the text scroll by, though the majority of his focus is still with Sonny. 

“Yes, I’m very aware, thank you for the reminder.”

Rafael lifts his chin, practically pouting as he glances from the screen to Sonny then back again. “You said you wouldn’t let go.”  
  
The sarcasm in Sonny’s voice doesn’t go unnoticed. “Well, so did Rose and look how well that turned out.” 

“You’re saying you wouldn’t make room for me on the door?”

“I’m saying it was an accident, and I’ve been groveling by feeding you delicious meals for the past week so maybe it’s about time you let it go.”  
  
It’s true, Rafael has to admit, he’s been holding this over Sonny’s head a little too long, even though it’s nobody’s fault but that moron in the Patriots jersey who clearly shouldn’t have been out ice skating in the first place, menace that he’d turned out to be. Still, it’s cute when Sonny gets frustrated, he gets a little crease between his brows that Rafael loves to smooth away with a kiss when he’s close enough to do it. Maybe it’s a little backwards to want that when he’s the one who’s caused it, but it’s not as if Sonny doesn’t like to push Rafael’s buttons, too; it’s just that Rafael is sometimes a little more relentless.

Like now, for instance.

“ _I can’t walk_ , Sonny!”

“You can walk, you’re just mad because the crutches are an inconvenience.”

“Carmen had to reschedule my court dates. The DA reassigned one of my cases to Dan Holden. Do you know how much I hate Dan Holden?”  
  
“You’ve mentioned it a few times, yeah.”

“Insufferable little troll. He keeps half-joking that I should introduce him to you so he can get his niece an autograph. A prosecutor for the city of Manhattan is trying to use me to get your autograph. It’s offensive.”  
  
“Yeah, babe, I know,” Sonny says dryly, stepping closer to the couch with a wry smile on his face. “Dan Holden is a bad, bad man who loves his niece. Listen, how about you just taste—”

“The worst part is, I have to meet your parents like this. On crutches, with a boot, because I twisted an ankle _ice skating_. How pathetic is that?”

Sonny tilts his head, feigning deep thought. Rafael squints because that look on Sonny’s face never leads to anything he ever wants to hear. “Is it more pathetic than when you froze up on camera then walked off set in front of our live audience because you forgot the Spanish word for turkey?”

The silence is deafening, broken only by the wails of a tauntaun.

“You’re asking for it, Carisi,” Rafael finally says, managing to keep his voice impressively calm and steady.

“What? I thought we agreed it was funny now.”

“We did and it was until my mom called me to mock me about it again last week.”

He’d just started to get over it, too. The incident wouldn’t even have been that big a deal had various fans of the show not yelled out “ _pavo!_ ” at him while he’d been minding his own damn business while walking down the street. It hadn’t helped, he supposes, that someone had snapped a photo of a particularly sour expression he’d made and posted it all over Twitter and Instagram. One person had used it as a response to a _Sonny Side Up_ tweet about taking a one week hiatus, which Sonny had chosen to do in favor of taking care of Rafael after the ice skating fiasco, which since been explained to Rafael as a “[meme](https://officialsonnysideup.tumblr.com/post/170299497872/part-two-of-a-very-ssu-christmas-is-finally-here).” He still doesn’t quite understand it but then again, he’s not especially interested in learning more.

“Your producer still hates me for that, by the way. And the ice skating thing. It’s like he thinks I _wanted_ to hurt myself just so you’d take a week off.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

Rafael rolls his eyes, petulantly crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the couch, though he tilts his head back so he can still see Sonny. “He hates me. He thinks I’m ruining your fanbase.”

“A few lousy social media comments do not a ruined fanbase make, okay? Besides, if he really hated you that much, I would’ve fired him already.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. Please don’t tell me you don’t get it yet, Raf. If I had to choose between you and the good graces of my producers, I’d choose you. Every time.”

Rafael’s cheeks tint pink with pleasure that he doesn’t give voice to, instead letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Now you’re getting sappy.”

“Yeah, and that’s _your_ fault.” With a grin, Sonny bends down to place a soft kiss on Rafael’s forehead, then holds his mixing spoon above Rafael’s lips. “Taste. Good?” At Rafael’s enthusiastic nod, Sonny’s grin becomes more of a beam, proud and pleased. “Anyway, joke’s on him, that turkey thing got us a boost in hits. You went kinda viral, babe!”

“That was hell. I had clients who watched your show and saw that video and didn’t believe I was even a real lawyer. There were articles.”

“Remember that one SSU blog where they used the picture of you with the [crazy eyes](https://officialsonnysideup.tumblr.com/post/170299497872/part-two-of-a-very-ssu-christmas-is-finally-here)?”

“Sonny. You know I hate that picture.”

“I’ve never seen you take a photo like that since then, I can’t believe they caught that.”

“ _Sonny_.”

“Like you never had your photo taken before.”

“ _Dominick_ , I swear—”

“Don’t worry,” Sonny interjects, his laughter lining up all too nicely with Chewbacca’s from the screen, “you still looked good. Hard not to get lost in all that green.”

“Shut up. You make my life difficult.”

“One way to change that.”

“Stop dating a YouTube celebrity?”

“Ouch, you got me there. Okay, I’ve been stirring these for way longer than I intended so I’m going to put it in the oven then come back and join you. Don’t pause it, won’t take long and anyway, I’ve seen this not Christmas movie too many times to count.”

Rafael doesn’t even bother to come up with a retort.

True to his word, Sonny takes less than another ten minutes to rid himself of the bowl and his apron, appearing back at the couch in his soft, worn gray hoodie that Rafael sometimes likes to steal for himself. On his feet are a pair of fuzzy socks with a gingerbread man print on them, a bizarre early Christmas gift from Lucia, who’d insisted that they were necessary for this awfully cold weather. Rafael can’t say much to mock; he’d been gifted a pair with penguins on it himself, and he’s wearing his own this evening, too. They _are_ cozy, he’ll give his mother that.

“It’ll be done soon,” Sonny promises, settling into a spot on the couch that allows Rafael to lean his head back against a firm chest. Draping an arm over Rafael’s hip, Sonny casually adds, “After the movie’s done, I’m definitely going to be taking advantage of you in your vulnerable state.”

That startles a laugh out of Rafael. “You’re really going to wait until after the movie’s done?” he teases. Rafael leans his head back, pressing a kiss to Sonny’s Adam’s apple, nipping lightly at the skin. “You don’t think you ought to get started sooner than that? It’s been almost a week, if you’re not careful, I’m going to hold this over your head for the rest of our lives.”

Sonny doesn’t say anything for a moment, long enough that Rafael lets his playful smile fades once he finds a thoughtful expression on his boyfriend’s face. “The rest of our lives, huh?” Sonny asks, his tone nearly hushed.

Almost immediately, Rafael feels his walls go up, a feeling he doesn’t like to have because Sonny never actually gives him a legitimate reason to get defensive, but he’s known heartache. He’s known betrayals. He’s known what it means to fall for someone then watch it fall apart before his very eyes, all the while helpless to do a damn thing about it and knowing he’s the cause. “Should I not have said that?” He speaks more defiantly than he feels, shoulders squaring, his entire body tensing.

Sonny shakes his head, his hand running up and down in soothing strokes against Rafael’s side. “No. No, I love that you said that. I just—” He bites down on his lip, looking as if he’s weighing the options of something Rafael can’t even begin to guess at, which is annoying in itself. Finally, Sonny moves out from beneath Rafael, holding his hands out placatingly. “Don’t move, okay?”

Through his confusion, Rafael’s jaw drops and he stares blankly at Sonny before gesturing wildly at his ankle. “Is that a joke?”

“Right. Right, sorry, I just have to grab something from the bedroom. I’ll be right back.”

As desperately as he’d like to follow, Rafael only collapses back against the couch, trying to collect himself so as not to make it seem like he cares at all what Sonny’s up to when the truth is, his heart is beating just a little faster and he doesn’t know whether he should feel more excited or nervous.

Several excruciating minutes pass while Rafael stares blankly at the screen, not quite processing what he’s seeing of Han Solo doing this or Princess Leia doing that. He’s seen this movie enough that he could probably give a play-by-play of it by heart but right now, Rafael’s mind is blank but for what Sonny might be doing. He only manages to become aware of the fact that he’s still even breathing when he hears the sound of Sonny’s feet padding across the floor.

When Sonny returns, he wears a tight but sweet smile and in his hand, he holds a flat, black velvet box. Rafael can’t take his eyes off it.

“I didn’t even have a chance to wrap it,” Sonny says, a bit sheepishly, as if he’s suddenly embarrassed. “I was going to give this to you as part of your Christmas gift but… I don’t know. Seems like it’s right to give it to you now.”

Rafael takes the box, sitting upright and glancing at his boyfriend as Sonny takes back his spot on the couch, looking on with anticipation. There’s only one thing he can think would be in here, and he takes a breath before opening the box to find exactly what he’d expected. Nestled inside on a bed of cream colored silk is a shiny, silver key, with a small note embedded within the lid that simply reads “ _stay_ ” in calligraphy.

“Sonny…” Rafael can’t help the way his voice cracks or the lump forming in his throat. His eyes sting with tears he has to blink back, and he can feel Sonny’s eyes on him, can practically sense the nerves emanating from beside him as Sonny waits for a response.

“Let me just--” Sonny pauses, ducking his head as he tries to find his words, then starts over. “I love it when you’re here. I love coming home to you, getting to see you every single day, holding you every single night.” His fingertips trail down the line of Rafael’s spine. “It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or next week or even next month, I just need you to know that I want you to be here, with me. I always want that.”

“Sappy again,” Rafael murmurs, without any real trace of mockery. He glides the pad of his thumb down the smooth stem of the key, then lingers again on the note before shifting his gaze to Sonny. “I want all of that, too, you know. This is the best gift anyone’s ever given me.”

“Better than the fuzzy socks from your mom?” That earns Sonny a swat, but he only laughs and wraps an arm around Rafael, gently cupping his boyfriend’s cheek as their lips meet for a slow, heated kiss. Once they part, he rests his forehead against Rafael’s, sighing contentedly. “What was that thing you said earlier about how I should take advantage of you before the movie ends?”

“Acknowledge it’s as legitimate a Christmas movie as _Die Hard_ and we can turn it off right now.”

Sonny only hums at that, shrugging a shoulder. “See, that was the other part of my gift: agreeing to add _Empire_ to the annual Christmas movie list. This is all win-win for me.”

“You’re impossible,” Rafael groans, though not so impossible that he isn’t already fumbling for the remote to get the movie paused. “You’re impossible, and I like you a lot.”

“I know.”

Rafael’s expression twists into something resembling disappointed disdain, and he shakes his head. “That’s it. We’re done here. I can’t believe you just Han Solo’d me.”

Another burst of laughter escapes him as Sonny buries his nose in soft, dark hair and breathing in the scent of those familiar traces of shampoo. There’s nothing he’d trade for this, not a damn thing. “Merry Christmas, Raf. And I like you a lot, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive how late the second half of this fic is, writer's block is a big pain in the butt. I hope you've enjoyed our little SSU holiday snippets and stay tuned for more to come! Thank you all for reading and for your lovely comments, please know that we appreciate every single one!

**Author's Note:**

> It's technically still Christmas here... I hope everyone who was celebrating had a lovely holiday! 
> 
> There is a second part to this little holiday fic that I'll be adding soon, it just needs some finishing touches. Hopefully you can forgive its lateness and just call it the gift that keeps on giving. (If it helps, it features Rafael loving Star Wars and Sonny being exceptionally sappy.) 
> 
> Also, I'm forever delighted to remind readers that this is a multimedia fic where we post accompanying/supplemental contact on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sonnysideupyt) and [Tumblr](https://officialsonnysideup.tumblr.com/). We only ever hope you have as much fun reading and browsing as we do creating! <3


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